


The Human Way (Part 1)

by Laur



Series: Don't Tell Me You Love Me [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Don't copy to another site, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Flustered Crowley (Good Omens), Foreplay, M/M, Other, human shaped beings, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 14:06:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20409001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laur/pseuds/Laur
Summary: Aziraphale tastes of lust and something unnameable. Releasing him is impossible, so Crowley frees one hand to snap his fingers, banishing their shirts to the floor.Aziraphale draws a breath. “Wait. Let’s do this the human way.”





	The Human Way (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a little warm-up piece and of course it turned into a smutty 2-parter.

They are not human, but they are human-shaped, more or less. Hunger and thirst do not affect them, nor do their lungs ache for breath or their skin crave for touch, if they do not let them. But they have been living as humans for a long time. They eat for the bliss of taste, they drink for the haze of intoxication, they breathe for the sake of appearances.

When they kiss, they do it for the same reason as humans everywhere.

Crowley sucks in just enough air to groan as Aziraphale flattens him against the mattress, tongue teasing the seam of his lips. Utterly distracted by the feel of Crowley under him, Aziraphale has long since used up his reserves of oxygen, silent as he kisses and strokes and presses closer. Even if he had the presence of mind to draw breath it would be a wasted effort, Crowley’s arms squeezing him like a boa constrictor, tight enough to crack human ribs.

Aziraphale abandons Crowley’s lips to explore the sweeping line of his jaw, then the smooth expanse of his throat. Crowley sucks in another tiny breath and expels it immediately, his skin alight where angelic teeth graze.

“Angel,” he wheezes, lids heavy with pleasure. “Clothes.”

Aziraphale buries his hands in red hair and brings their mouths back together, tasting of lust and something unnameable. Releasing him is impossible, so Crowley frees one hand to snap his fingers, banishing their shirts to the floor. 

At last, Aziraphale inhales to beg, “Wait. Let’s do this the human way.”

Dazed from the touch of their bare torsos, Crowley cannot argue, and it’s a mad scramble to undress the other first. Fingers pull at buttons, tear at zippers, and yank on fabric until the only thing separating them is the bodies they wear.

Their bodies are mere vessels, tools of pleasure, with the sentimental value of a well-loved car. What inspires the desire crackling between them and the blooming of their pupils is not the bodies, but the beings they contain.

As their thighs slot together, the skin between their legs is still smooth and featureless. “What should we try first?” Crowley asks, clutching at perfectly-padded hips.

Aziraphale melts against him, overcome by the implication of ‘first’. “I’m rather fond of the prostate,” he provides, and they both manifest male anatomy with a thought. At once their pleasure gains focus, bodies shuddering as their aching cocks rub together.

By the time Crowley has acclimatized enough to speak, Aziraphale has retrieved a bottle of lubricant from his bedside table and is pressing it into Crowley’s shaking hands. The bottle is half-full and Crowley chokes. “You’ve—”

“Of course I have,” Aziraphale says archly. “Could you...?”

Crowley is certain there is a very uncool look on his face that must be rectified immediately. With a growl, he flips them, then slithers down the angel’s body in a way he’s seen in less trashy rom-coms. Aziraphale is suitably impressed, biting his lip as Crowley nuzzles at his soft belly, the hard crest of his hip, the warm crease of his groin. Lost in the scent, the taste, the sensations, Crowley’s attentions are aimless, teasing, until Aziraphale’s voice cuts through the fog of lust in his brain.

“More, dear.” His hand cards through Crowley’s hair, sending electricity down his spine, and Crowley gasps into Aziraphale’s stomach. Nails scratch at the nape of his neck and Crowley dimples Aziraphale’s thighs with his grip.

Crowley is not ignorant, but he is inexperienced, and this entire endeavor is suddenly daunting.

“The human way?” he confirms, looking up to read Aziraphale’s expression.

Face open and trusting and just the slightest bit wild, Aziraphale nods. With a thumb, he strokes Crowley’s pouting bottom lip, sucking in a breath when his tongue darts out for a taste. “We’ve sided with them. It seems fitting.”

Seizing Aziraphale’s hand, Crowley presses a searing kiss to the palm. “Yeah, yeah, we did.”

“And, Crowley, dear?” Aziraphale lifts a saucy eyebrow. “No cheating.”

**Author's Note:**

> I cherish every comment and kudos! I'm on [Tumblr!](https://notesoflore.tumblr.com/)


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